I walk on the fire, Sun drank all my water. Leaving only illusions, Waves with no color.
There is no way to go, Just a cracked gray topped lane. Leads somewhere to grow, But here, beg a rain.
I am a wanderer, Town to town, Being a squanderer, To not feel down.
Now my wallet craves for currency, 10 cents can't make a change. The leather is cracked lips, Dehydrated as am too.
The road is my home, wherever it goes, I follow. To where it goes, is lost.